


"Our Max..."

by White_Rainbow



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kloven returns, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rainbow/pseuds/White_Rainbow
Summary: Writing Prompt from Tumblr: Originalthrawnduil - "I hesitate to even ask this but after reading Find Me... I wondered about how it would go, if the situation was reversed? Thrawn being kidnapped and having to be rescued by Max."The Prequel"Find Me..."is part of theOperation: Galactic Gambit series.





	"Our Max..."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thrawnduil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrawnduil/gifts).



> Follow me on tumblr! [White Rainbow](http://white-rainbowff.tumblr.com/)  
> 

_ Breathe...focus...resist… _

The whip comes down a second time. The pain is bright and unyielding. The cruel leather bites at his tortured flesh, crosses the first wound, but ignites his entire back. It reopens the lacerations taken just a day earlier.

_ Breathe... _

A third strike.

Thrawn struggles to draw breath. His arms are stretched above him, near to their limits. He breathes shallowly, small, quick breaths. 

Sweat pours down Thrawn’s face, down his bare torso, thicker liquid drips down his back and he tries to ignore just how much blood he has lost.

_ Focus.. _ . 

He knows where he is. He has read Veers’ report, listened to Max’s stories. 

This is Zaloriis. 

This is the place where Veers stood so long ago. 

But whomever stands behind him...that remains a mystery.

_ Unless...but no, that cannot be... _

A fourth strike…

A fifth…

A sixth…

The agony of each lash blurs with the next. He can no longer tell where the last strike landed, nor predict where the next will strike. 

“Grand admiral...” the oily voice coos in his ear behind him, his body is close to Thrawn’s torn, vulnerable back, but does not touch. “I admit I have never had the pleasure of interrogating a Chiss before.”

_ Focus...Resist… _

Thrawn says nothing. He has not spoken since he arrived. His captor will not bait him now.

“I am almost disappointed that I cannot pull the same sounds from you as I have from so many others. You, however…” A gloved thumb presses hard into the small of Thrawn’s back where the skin is most raw and wet. 

A noise, something between a hiss and growl, escapes through his clenched teeth.

“...your sounds are fascinating. Like a wounded serpent fighting futilely against a hungry mongoose. You do know you are beaten, correct? That there is no escape for you.”

The thumb pulls away and Thrawn’s body shakes involuntarily. He knows the captor will mistake his trembling for fear, but it is the crisp, cold air and the feverish pain that weaken his muscles. 

Thrawn flexes his sinewy arms, wills himself to lift up just enough to grab hold of the chains that hold him. He stands on the balls of his feet and the new position brings some circulation back in his arms. With some effort, he manages to quiet his body.

He hears his captor hum behind him.

“Exquisite.”

With a chill, Thrawn realizes the man is admiring his handiwork. He cannot imagine what his back looks like, the long lines of red against a cerulean back, slopes of muscles torn with shallow crevices. He knows it is useless to assess damage that he cannot hope to heal at the moment. 

For now he can feel his limbs. That will have to do.

He returns to his meditative mantra.

_ Breathe...focus...resist… _

He hears the man’s boots thud against the concrete platform as he circles around Thrawn and for the first time since arriving, Thrawn sees his captor’s face. 

He is human, that much Thrawn can tell, but never has he seen eyes as dark as those that bore into him now. His golden hair is curled behind his ears and frames a smooth face, long and regal. 

“Look at you,” the man marvels, a black-gloved hand delicately brushing a loose strand of Thrawn’s blue-black hair from his face. Thrawn remains unmoved, unfazed despite his heart pounding in his chest. “The very embodiment of stoicism. It is beautiful.”

The man’s smile is soft, almost tender, but its charm is diluted by the specks of blood on his cheek…

_ My blood... _ Thrawn’s stomach clenches.

The man flicks a switch on his wristband and the chains begin to move. Blood rushes through Thrawn’s limbs once again as the chain grows slack and he is eased onto the concrete platform, allowing him to rest on his knees. 

Thrawn’s scarlet gaze eyes never leave those dark, abyssal orbs that twinkle cruelly at him. 

He forces his breath to stay even, not wanting to give his captor the satisfaction of watching him gasp for air. His lungs burn, his heart hammers ceaselessly. 

_ Breathe...focus...resist... _

The man crouches in front of him, knowing the chiss is too weak to attack, and Thrawn begrudgingly accepted the fact the man is right to be unafraid. 

“Your resolve is admirable. You have not asked what I want, or my name. You have not pleaded. You have not said a word. Yet, your silence only increases my desires, grand admiral. It only makes me want you to sing for me even more. I want to hear those exotic hisses from my beautiful wounded serpent.”

The man reaches into the pocket of his crisp, white shirt, unbothered by the fact that he is smearing the fabric with Thrawn’s blood as he retrieves a small disk.

Thrawn wills himself to not move, but every nerve is suddenly alight with dread. 

“I found this in your boot while you were sleeping. Forgive me for prying, but I can only tolerate a new pet’s silence for so long.”

A small holoimage hovers over the disk. 

Thrawn’s arms are wrapped around Veers’ neck, while Veers’ strong arms are hooked under Thrawn’s legs, lifting Thrawn easily onto the general’s back. 

The holoimage was snapped by Piett at the last gala celebrating their victory of Endor. Veers was captured in mid-laugh and Thrawn’s lips were frozen in mid-kiss on the general’s cheek. 

The memory floods Thrawn’s mind before he can resist…

 

_ “If I did not know any better I’d say you smooched me.” Veers’ words are slurred only slightly from one too many glasses of scotch. _

_ Thrawn hiccups, but has been insisting all night he was merely ‘tipsy’. He manages to keep his words clear. “I do not ‘smooch’,  _ ch’eo vur _. I only give the most sensual of kisses.” _

_ “It felt like a smooch to me, love.” _

_ “Then I shall have to assault you with several more of these, so that you may see the difference!” _

 

Thrawn kept the holoimage in his boot, next to an emergency tracker should he find himself in trouble.

He has yet to activate the tracker.

“I am jealous, grand admiral,” the man grins. “I had no idea you and my favorite colonel were so close. I wonder if that makes us related somehow?”

Thrawn feels his blood turn to ice. 

_ Impossible...he is supposed to be dead... _

“You…” Thrawn’s voice comes out in a raspy hiss. “You are Kloven.”

“Ah, you have found your voice.” Kloven purrs. “Our Max has spoken of me?”

“He is not ‘ours’,” Thrawn spits. The icy dread in his blood quickly shifts to a bubbling rage.

_ Breathe!...Focus! _

But he cannot focus. Kloven has been more than just a story to Thrawn. 

He exists through Max’s night terrors, that rips him from sleep in panicked cries.

He exists through the permanent web of scars along his Max’s back, borne from ten days of torture from this monster’s hand. 

He exists in the fear in Max’s hazel eyes at the scent of vanilla, which Thrawn smells clearly mixed with oiled leather on Kloven’s skin now.

“Ah, but he is ours, grand admiral. In fact, in some ways, I know him better. I have seen him at his lowest point, I have taken him there myself. He was a sobbing, broken creature craving my touch, my comfort, knowing I was his only salvation. He only trusted me to hurt him in the end. That beautiful scar on his chest...he asked me to do it personally, did he tell you that? He chose me to-”

It takes Thrawn’s mind a few heartbeats to realize he is on top of Kloven, that somehow he found the strength to shove him to the ground. 

Ignoring the infernal agony on his back, Thrawn wraps his hands around that pale, long neck and he squeezes with all his might.

A sudden click sounds and Thrawn is yanked away, the chains rising, lifting him up and up and up...

He snarls viciously, and struggles and lurches against the cuffs. 

His mantra is gone. 

His calm is gone. 

All his focus pours into tearing apart the devil who broke his Max so completely all those years ago.

The chains begin to tighten. They pull until his arms are stretched to their limit.

He cannot breathe, yet he finds breath to spit a string of Cheunh curses, promising his captor a slow death in the most creative of ways. 

Kloven rubs his neck, his cheeks are flushed, but that infuriatingly tender smile does not leave his face. 

“I believe we are making progress,” he rasps, clearing his throat. “I believe negotiations can begin.”

“I will give you nothing,” Thrawn spits.

Kloven holds up the tracking device in one hand and the holoimage in the other. 

“Are you so sure? You did not activate this tracking device for a reason. I am guessing it is because we both know who would risk all to come here to rescue you. You did not want him to come to Zaloriis and now that you know  _ I  _ am here…” Kloven licks his thin red lips. “Imagine the look on his face...Do you think he will be happy to see me?” Kloven shivers and purrs. “It is so tempting. A reunion I have dreamed about for years.”

He tilts his head at Thrawn. “But I would be happy to trade that reunion for say...the location of your new TIE Fighter factory. I know the sector, but the coordinates prove to be quite elusive.”

Thrawn’s face falls to stone. His eyes lower dully to the holoimage of a happier time he may never experience again.

“If I give you the coordinates, will you destroy the tracker?”

Kloven arches an eyebrow. “No bargain for your life?”

“The tracker,” Thrawn says, firmly. “Will you destroy it?”

Kloven nods. “You have my word.”

Thrawn closes his eyes. 

_ Focus...Breathe… _

… _ Surrender… _

“Kloven...” 

Thrawn’s eyes open, his heart drops. 

The voice is small, weak...uncharacteristically timid, yet unmistakably familiar. It is the tone Thrawn would hear as Veers uttered that same name during the worst of his nightmares.

Kloven’s smile is sadistically warm. “Is that my Max? Ah…” 

Veers stands in the doorway, face pale, hands clenched, hazel eyes glassy. “G...get away from him, Kloven.”

Kloven instead presses his back against Thrawn’s bare chest, and runs a gloved hand along Thrawn’s warm cheek. “But we are having such fun. Are you jealous, Max? Did you believe only you should get such special treatment from me?”

Veers does not look at Thrawn as he raises the blaster. 

Thrawn knows he will not pull the trigger. Kloven knows this too, for if Veers shoots him, the blast will hit Thrawn as well. 

Thrawn tries to shift his muscles, tries to squirm away, to give Veers the clear shot he needs. The chains hold firm and all he can do is hang helplessly.

Kloven tuts and flicks the switch on his wrist. 

The chains begin to groan and Thrawn is lifted higher. His muscles scream, his back on fire, he hears an alarming pop and pain shoots through his shoulders.

Darkness lingers at the edge of his vision. 

“Kloven, stop! Wait!”

Thrawn wants to tell Veers not to let Kloven escape. To shoot him and end the nightmares forever. He wants to tell Veers he loves him. That he will always be with him. 

His words come out in shallow gasps. 

The world dims. 

The stars that dance across his vision begin to wink out.

All he can hear is the negotiation going on without him.

“Anything...just do not harm him...”

\-----

_ When the nightmares come, Thrawn is ready. _

_ “Max! Max, wake up. Look at me...” _

_ Veers’ eyes are wild and unfocused, sweat trickles down his face, he is trembling. _

_ Thrawn brushes back the sweat-soaked hair and hushes him. “I will not let anyone hurt you,” he promises. “You are safe here. He cannot hurt you here.” _

_ Gradually, Veers’ body begins to quiet. His hazel eyes lock to Thrawn. “Love?” _

_ Thrawn presses his forehead against Veers’. “I am here. You are safe.” _

 

“...Love? Thrawn, wake up…”

Thrawn feels a familiar, calloused hand stroke his face, gently bringing him back into consciousness. With a soft groan he finds himself on his back, wrapped in thick green fabric. He pulls at it, realizing it is Veers’ tunic. 

“What happened?”

“The troopers have secured the area. You are safe.” Veers smiles and continues to stroke Thrawn’s hair.

“And Kloven?”

Veers maintains his soft smile, but pain shows in his glassy eyes and the pallor of his skin. “Med droids will be coming in soon too. Nothing a little bacta cannot fix.”

Thrawn does not need to press, he already knows Kloven has escaped, using Thrawn’s life as a bargaining chip. 

Thrawn lay his head on Veers’ lap. “It would have been wiser to shoot him. I could have survived with one lung until help arrived.”

“I am going to blame that insane comment on blood loss, because there is no way you believe I would actually shoot you.”

Thrawn sighs and tries to shift into a more comfortable position. Ever slightly movement sets his back aflame. “I will bleed all over your tunic.”

“If our washers can remove barbeque sauce from my white shirts, it can remove a bit of chiss blood from my tunic.”

The absurdity brings out a soft chuckle from Thrawn, but the sound sends a jolt of pain through him. He draws in deep breaths and exhales slowly.

“We will find him, Max.”

Veers’ fingers hesitate before combing through Thrawn’s hair again. “We will not, but I will.”

“You are going after him…”

Veers nods. “This is something I have to do myself.”

“When are you leaving?”

“The moment the med droids move you. I believe I know where he is headed.”

“I see…”

Thrawn does not want Veers to be alone when he faces Kloven. However, he also knows that Veers can only truly face his demon alone.

Veers leans down and kisses Thrawn. It is a soft kiss, but it is one that Thrawn, despite the pain in his body, leans into desperately. They explore each other’s mouths, they memorize the moment that could never last long enough. When Veers pulls away, he presses his forehead to Thrawn’s.

“I will make him pay, Mitth’raw’nuruodo. He will pay for what he did to me. He will pay for what he did to my men. He will know every one of their names before he dies.” Veers’ voice shakes as he adds, “And I will make him pay for what he did to you, my love...”

Thrawn knows Veers means every word.

Thrawn knows that when he sees Veers again he will be a different person.

And most importantly, Thrawn knows that the new Maximilian Veers he sees will be one who is finally free from the devil that haunts his nightmares.


End file.
